To Curve the Hunger (Backlash/ PM for invite)

Subject: To Curve the Hunger (Backlash/ PM for invite) Sat Dec 03, 2011 7:12 pm

The moon above shone bright in the dark black of the night sky. Its fluorescent white light seemed so foreign in the pitch black almost as if the moon and the black were waging a celestial war for the universe. Necati’s smiled behind the darkness of his hood as his gaze remained upward. Even with the moons intense bright light it was just a spec in the black, in time it would only give way to the dark nothingness as all did... just as the heroes of this world would fall to the the evil that lurked in this city. For like stars lost in the black vacuum of space they could only provide just the most fragile and small bits of light and hope in the sea of black that seeked to pull them under with its current. Necati reveled in the delight of the thought as he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

The Reaper stood currently in a small deserted alleyway between to brick buildings. All around him was filth and squalor thrown out by the trash that lived there. The walls around him where crumbling with age and bits of brick lay scattered before him like the sand of a desert. Across the street from this very alley way stood the Jump museum of natural history, it’s gleaming white marble walls and large artful glass front a stark contrast to the degenerate neighborhood around it. Quickly Necati moved forward out of the alley way crossing the vacant street nothing but a blur of black in the dark night. Reaching the entrance to museum he placed a single white hand upon the glass. Almost immediately the clear blue hue began to grow cloudy as it frosted over with ice from the reapers freezing touch. Silently Necati moved forward and in the blink of an eye the Reaper phased through the glass moving to the inside of the museum.

Landing softly inside Necati took a step forward and instantly the silent alarm activated setting the dominos in motion. He had expected as much but Necait felt not need to hide his presence, after all, there was not a power in this world that could stop him from what he desired. Elegantly moving forward he dove deeper into the museum sauntering at a relax pace as if simply browsing the exhibits. The Reaper doubted if anyone world arrive before he had obtained what he had come for and disappeared into the night. Then a mental image of cumbersome Teen Titans passed his mind…perhaps a bit of preemptive action couldn’t hurt. Necati lifted his right hand and in an instant a dark vortex began to form in his palm as the outline of his scythe began to materialize in his hand. Moments later the brilliant silver scythe became whole as a shockwave of dark energy came forth causing ever display in the museum to rattle and the reapers cloak to whip around his body.

A wicked smile grew across his God like features as he gazed upon his kindred weapon…yes perhaps he would allow some resistance to show, it had been ever so long since he had been able to cut loose a bit. Just then Necati brought his scythe around in a crescent slash aimed at one of the nine foot thick cement walls. A moment of silence passed before the wall came crumbling down revealing a steel vault. Necati’s eyes danced with delight, he was sure that the ancient wristlet was here. However someone had arrived a little too early for this coming out party…how rude didn’t they know that it was in style to be fashionably late…preferable after he had brought the world to one knee before him.

Guest

To see the physical incarnation of death was a somber sight and something that Backlash had never expected to witness, and rightfully so.

Tonight was certainly one of new revelations and uncharted happenings. Take the fact that she had broken into and entered this sacred museum and keeping place of many mighty objects whose significance weighed more than the walls themselves. But she had waited for this opportunity for a lifetime, although until recently she had not realised this driving force to conquer the Teen Titans, get revenge and... and... quiet the relentless feelings of “love” she had encountered for the first time when she and JaK Sage first met, during a Christmas party no less. Now, with the trophies of murdering one of the Titans’ own, a robot called “Model Eleven,” the knowledge and power that came partnered with betrayal and close relationships with the very people she had once stood alongside and battled, and the technology of her father’s, who now slumped over his couch in Sczcecin, Poland, and rotted away with the stench of failure tainting the air. A pair of whips that held the energy equivalent to the electrons that gave lightning its destructive properties and a metal representation of an arm––a device earned by taking an existing great asset and creating more, more, and even more of its worth––that could bend and manipulate metal as if it were a child’s soft lump of Play-Doh. And although this was a generous bounty of power, it would never be enough for the “self-built” ex-hero of Poland and Jump City, a rebellious, spunky, compulsive, and never backing down, sixteen-year-old teenage girl, a Polish technology prodigy with a past studded by family fame and family failures. She had large shoes to fill after following in her father––Konrad Dolinski’s––legacy of a stubborn man who carved the way of invention not only by creating from scratch, but taking other’s successful ideas and programming them to reach far higher potential.

A rumoured ancient wristlet well within Katarzyna Dolinski’s, formerly know as “Electrified” and now the more suiting title of “Backlash,” grasp was a window of innovation too promising to ignore. But now there was another obstacle standing in her way. The dramatic temperature drop of every air particle chilled the electromagnetic-charged metahuman’s every nerve and threatened to freeze her dry, but the intensity and excitement of seeing such a dark and sinister character as this apparent demon had driven the effects to a nice stimulation of readiness and defiance. At first glance and initial reaction, Kat was prompted to attack or at the very least make her allegiance to herself clear, but the proposition soon and luckily registered as absurd. I am I being Punk’d here? she thought as she eyed the dark figure standing in mortality’s view with the uncannily bright white spectres that were her enhanced eyes. Now what would this guy want with a worldly item like this? Surely a shade of death needs no help from the human world.

She had to choose her words carefully and constantly remind herself that this adversary could very well be capable of killing her instantly. Then, in all due accordance, an idea came to her mind. Or rather, a choice to bargain... to make a deal with the devil.

Life was something that had began to prove meaningless and far more detrimental to think about rather than be a course to be pursued and “lived to its fullest.” Her mum was dead, her dad was virtually the same, and with her treason to the Teen Titans was a nagging sense of regret.

I could have had a home. I could have had friends! A family! A life! No... that was also absurd. Who would take back the Judas of the flock? No one. Not even a mad man would do such a stupid thing.

Finally, Backlash simply agreed on a few simple words. All she did now was sit on the massive steel wheel that when opened my combination or in this case, by force, and let her feet dangle loosely. It wasn’t very much length from the ground to the bottoms of her feet, but still, just enough to give her a sense of heightened position. After all, the five-foot “tall” teen needed all the boosts in society to keep the horizon in plain sight.

“Hi, I’m Backlash. You must be Death.”

Necati’s head turned ever so slowly at the sound of the girl’s voice. So he had not been far off when he felt the presence of some bothersome meta human nearby. As he turned his could stare caught site of a being far from what the reaper had expect or imagined. Instead of seeing one of the flamboyantly clad teen titans posed in their foolish photo op formation what sight assaulted his sense was something far more interesting and quite a few shades darker. The Reaper scrutinized the girl that sat before him. Her face was unwavering and the confidence in her voice was unmistakable. Necati considered cutting her down where she sat…oh it would be so easy for the reaper. After all he was sure that the world would not miss one more arrogant mortal…this city alone was full of them. However, that was neither the way fate worked nor how he was allowed to conduct business. So, he would be forced to suffer through a conversation with the youth.

Taking a second look Necati had to admit a bit of interest in the girl, she had a black soul of someone who carried a burden that had been accumulated over hundreds of years…Yet from what his sense could make out she appeared to have barely walked this world for more than 16 years. In this patch of thorns she was barely a sapling breaking through the earth to hail the sun but her taint was much farther than most. Looking closely at her Necati’s heavy stare took in her….odd appearance. Backlash was small in stature barely over 5 feet tall and just about 100 pounds if she were lucky, her hair was pure white with streaks of black and her eyebrows the same. She for all purposes appeared simply to be a very outlandish and brash youth…however her eyes now they were different and worth the Reapers attention. The two orbs that set in her young face were simply mesmerizing, the iris was as white as new snow but the eye is self as dark as night. They were very peculiar indeed so much so that they stood out in Necati’s mind…he paused where had Necati seen them before. The reaper moved forward slowly closing the distance between the two till he was but a few yards from her. He could see the goose bumps pop up on her white skin as an involuntary shiver quickly washed over her. So she was not as brave nor as confident as she appeared. Necati’s leaned forward so his face was inches from backlash’s as his bright sivler eyes bore cold into her. The Reaper’s gaze was no doubt heavy but she showed great pose and met it.

A few seconds passed with a silence that no doubt seemed to last an eternity before Necati saw the girl’s eyes in his mind. It was as if the last digit on a vault’s lock had been entered and the contents revealed, she was Katarznya Dolinski. The Reaper had come to collect this little ones mother not but three years ago if his memory was correct, which it always was. She had died that night by the hand of a couple of dead beat gangbangers who were dispatched very shortly. Necati cocked his head to the side as his silence held weightily over the two. Now that he had placed the girl in the abyss that was his mind it was time to figure out why she was here. The Fallen let himself elegantly glide backward with inhuman grace as he moved to a more normal conversation distance.

“Aww if it isn’t the mortal Katarznya… it’s been such a short amount of time since last I visited your family.”

Necati’s face widened in a wicked grin as his words grew more taunting and sarcastic with each syllable.
“I thought after your mother had fallen to me on my last appearance three years ago you had decided to never to grace me with another visit...How kind of you to make this exception.”

The last word was drawn out just a little too long giving the sentence an uncomfortable ending. Necati unconcerned by the threat turned around to face the vault as he spoke nonchalantly over his shoulder to her. “Now what is it you want little girl, since I am no keeper of time you can assume I do not have it to spare. So pick your words in accordance with this and let our interaction be through, for I have no desire to speak to one who I will have an eternity to spend with later.”

Guest

Backlash returned Necati’s hissing spitfire with equally defying ones of her own. She was facing Death, after all. If she could face him and live, she could undoubtedly face her “rough relations” with the Teen Titans head-on.

“Yeah, you came to visit. Thank you, by the way for cleaning up after my mess and giving a few cute moral lessons as well. My mother’s death and my naïve, failed attempt to ‘save the day’ and rescue poor little ol’ her opened so many more doors than I imagined could come from both her and my pa, too. I got a tricked out new arm and killed off my first few people. I figured out just what kind of power my dad was shielding me from when his real intentions were to keep it for himself.”

She then eyed the Beast... eyed its treasures of jewels from the pit of hell itself, Necati’s eyes. A surge of cold, roaring ice water seemed to release itself from some unknown frozen lake that traveled down her spine, making it retaliate with a shivering cringe and a satchel of dulled nerves and new frigidity.

However contrary to this fact, Backlash simply cracked her neck and pulled her lightning whips in closer to her torso, casting a flickering shower of inverted light dancing across the planes of her obsidian-coloured skin and filling her with a literal surge of energy of her own to counteract Necati’s cold, icy, numbing touch. The nerves in her spine, neck, head, hands, feet, toes, limbs, everything jolted awake and became fully energized like a newly-rebooted car battery.

“It’s funny you showed up after I did,” she continued in an even and freakishly calm, unfaltering tone, “especially because you’re seeking something very mortal for very mortal purposes. I’m here for the same reason you are: I want power. Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. And, speaking of corruption, my dad’s a vegetable now because his frail paper heart got torn when he found out that my mum was dead. He didn’t even act like I was born or really mattered; more like a monkey mechanic to hold the wrenches and reach the small and cramped places in old automobiles or vintage planes. But don’t get me wrong––he had a lot going for him until he let emotions take the place of brains. I just think that you’ve got this all backwards; I believe that you are the one waiting around for death to happen instead of having death come to you. I’m not much to look at or may seem very impressive to you, but looks and charms are something I’m short on where intelligence and drive comes naturally. I have a favor to ask of you in accordance to what I know about reapers. Let’s see...”

She paused as if to think of what words needed to be placed where and when.

“You can’t kill people unless they’ve already been set to die. The Devil seems to have cheated you out of things and made you his monkey mechanic, just holding the small stuff and doing the dirty work while he gets all the glory and real power. I can kill people who aren’t set to die for quite a long time or just don’t fit into your busy schedule. Politicians, spiritual men, terrorists, little old ladies, hell––even superheroes can fall when I play the right cards. I want to make a deal with you. You hold the cards and I’ll play as your ace in the hole. I commit the mortal sin of killing, but the thing that might interest you is this: I’ll kill everyone you want dead but cannot kill because you’re forbidden to do so by the Devil’s sly arithmetic. You see... I’m just bored. I’m not doing this for any self-righteous actions or despairing, woeful act of avenge for my mum. I want to mess things up in this messed-up world, ya know? Like taking a screw, cutting a skull open, and churning the brain around a bit. Poke something here, poke something there, see what goes wrong when something goes right and vice-versa.”

Backlash shook her head and gave a short, little chuckle of disbelief in what she was saying. This Reaper would probably just kill her now and take the magic wristlet.

“You said you’d have an eternity to spend with me later. Might as well have a little fun, don’t you agree?”

Necati let a low laugh escape him as he eyed the girl. It was truly astounding the ignorance that these human had of divinity. In the thousands of years he had watched the human race form and grow. For thousands of years he had watched them create false notions about higher powers and how they govern the universe. How many different versions of these deities had the human race concocted grasping at what they could never understand? They tried to give names to the ancients that controlled all things like God and the Devil or Zeus and Hades. Some that knew better than to rely on their own minds to define things beyond there comprehension simply called them higher powers. Now….those were the human’s closest to the truth. For in all reality there was only balance. Light and Dark….Good and Evil the universe was to be in perfect balance the Ancient were to keep it as thus.

Necati was an agent of the dark Ancient gifted all his power and strength but bound by the unbreakable rule of balance. The Reaper had all the power of the ones before him and even a bit more but only because he was unshakably bound to keep the scales of life in the universe at equilibrium and the same in all dimension. The girl’s next few words broke into the silence of his thoughts as she continued to spout her ignorance. She acted as if she knew how the cosmos worked or how higher beings thought and acted. To be plain she barely understood the world, the people she would kill were already fated to die in just that very manner. In fact this alliance was already played out in the grand scheme and the results recorded in the book of time what choice she or Necati made did not matter as they did not write the book…yet. So perhaps he would take her up on this deal weighted in his own favor.

“You are just as blind and single minded as an oxen. Your mind grasp the very basics of what you eye sees and nothing more. However unlike the oxen you have the capacity to see just how insignificant of an insect you are. Perhaps with more years and bit of learning you will understand you place at the bottoms of life forms. For now I will indulge you with this partnership. However, do not think me naïve a partnership is much like all things there is give and take. What is it that you desire from me that makes you wish to subjugate your will to my governship? For I highly doubt that a head like your’s, thick as steel and as empty as the void, would allow you to be content with nothing but the graced of my mere presence as payment. ”

Necati’s eyes narrowed, he knew why the girl was here but he wanted to see just how open backlash would be. Would she be easily seduced to lowering her guard and thus prove much more useless than originally thought or would she hold her guard and remain wary. Necati expected the second for she seemed one to play her cards close to her vest…after all he sensed that her dealings with the Titans were not all concluded and that she came to him with a heart in turmoil. Judging from the lines in her face and the sorrow written in her eyes she was a soul searching for a place in life a sort of meaning to give her life a sense of purpose. Necati let a very soft scoff escape him. How funny it was that she had come to death looking for such a thing.

Guest

Backlash let a visible emotion escape for just a second, albeit an interesting one nonetheless: her lip quivered and her brow set as if she was... as if she was contemplating whether she was truly ready to kill again. Model Eleven had been physically easy to dispose of with her new powers of Magnetism, but every time she logged onto or gained access to an electronic device, she just couldn’t help but be subject to the image of the late Titan’s robotic frame as she dissembled and laughed the night away.

She had calculated the death toll she had contributed to which resulted as seven, now; the five gangbangers she ripped apart with lightning, Model Eleven, and... her mum. Yes, her mother’s death had been her own fault, for she unsuccessfully and compulsively donned the hero facade with the rash idea that everything would be “back to normal” once all was said and done.

It was no surprise that those ghosts of long ago were evident in her eyes, especially to Necati, but she kept it together well by ridding herself of those pansy emotions immediately and sucking it up even in the face of death and flat insults. She refuted by bending Necati’s words into her own strengths.

“Ox or not, I’m glad you’re willing to lend a cold hand,” she replied, then paused, contemplating whether or not she wanted to speak what her heart truly desired, “...I want to rip out the hearts of every Titan, one by one, and make them watch each other bleed. They need to experience what they made me feel, although not by the ten-fold principal. What they did to me should be returned twice over so they can learn their lessons. Besides, they never went to school. They need to know what the real world does to one’s intelligence and conscience.”

The emotion brought just a flicker of joy to Necati. She was not as stone-cold as she was trying to portray. The reaper could see the indecision and just flicks of guilt that fluttered across her elegant little face. This death and destruction she desired to wreak was not her lot in life. However, Backlash would have to discover that on her own for now he would test this resolve of her and see if she had any value as the tool she was claiming to be. Necati moved toward her slowly as he drug the back edge of his scythe across he hard marble. The loud screech of the metal echoed through the halls as a few bright sparks leapt upward illuminating the dark room. The reaper stopped inches from her as his voice drifted coldly forward.

“Your words paint a picture that holds a very different meaning than that of which is said. You cannot stiffen what your body cannot control, nor, can you mind commit to that which it does not believe. Your lips overflow with confidence but your heart and eyes misgive your doubt and strife. So I must see your resolve and test your will.” In a flash Necati’s cold hand shot out as he placed one ice cold finger on backlashes forehead. Her body was frozen in time as she sat paralyzed under the reapers immense power. Dark energy leapt from his hand as it worked its way around her body locking every muscle in her tiny frame. “We shall see just what defines you little ox…”

With that the darkness took her and she fell deep into unconsciousness entering a dark dream of Necati’s creation. The dream would flow from the dark magic generated from the girls own heart. The images would be drawn forth from the depths of her mine and given all the traits she knew. Now the only thing left for him to do was insert himself into the dream. Necati let his bright silver eyes close as he entered Backlashes subconscious. Opening his eyes he saw the darkness of and empty mind with Backlashe’s still unconscious body lying in the black before him. Bending down beside her his eyes watched closely as he back rose and fell in a slow but rhythmical beat. Standing again Necati snapped his finger. The sound rang out solidly shaking the darkness around them as if the tone had rattled the very ground they stood on. Backlash stirred and began to awaken as the darkness began to dissipate replaced with the fluttering of random colors and images from her awakening mind.

OOC: I left it open because i want to see where you take the idea. I have a general plan of where i think things will go but I really want to see where things go so dont worry about messing anything up go wild!

Guest

OOC: Yup, belated. FML, but this lonnnnnnnng and plentiful reply should suffice, I say. Wink

BIC:

An shady alleyway in Steel City immerses the Reaper and the Traitor in a hallowing painting of greys, reds, and muddy browns as two apparitions form before the tangent two, one a beautiful girl radiating pink with beautiful wings, and the other a stern warrior with an arrow and bow poised like no other magnificent being. Suddenly, words formed upon the great Simca and Apache's lips, the Slivers that once rule the boisterous habitat of Jump City only to be pushed down by the endless oppression of muddied "justice." They are talking to someone... or rather, yelling at someone in spiteful disgust. One, the legend called "Apache" can be coherently heard fist:

"It's not the criminals that make Steel like this...it's people who don't stand up against it. People like you. Which would give me an equal good reason to shoot you, were it not for Simca. She's higher in rank, she gives the orders. I will not deny the last shred of rank and order left in this hellhole.''

And to those condemning remarks, a third figure appeared. A short young women, holding two spitting streams of electric-blue lightning by their tail-ends with a high-rising ponytail in matching colour. She wore a long and bulky black trench-coat, wore multiple piercings in her ears, eyebrow, and even bellybutton with large platform boots and a leather harness that in turn nested a humming, round, pulsing disc of raw energy––lightning, to be exact. When she backlashed in reply, her voice was poisoned with methamphetamine and distorted with hard Polish spike.

"If 'scum' like me didn’t defend ourselves, we’d also conceit to everyone’s convictions. And before you reply, I want to make it clear that what you’ve said is true so far, and I agree sob stories are pathetic. But trying to cover up my own mistakes––both past, present, and future––would make me even lower than I already am. Joining the Titans was my first mistake, and coming down here was obviously my second; getting chewed and spat on by a Sliver, no less, only proves what can and can’t be seen in a person. In only five minutes, you’ve already decided who I am."

• • • • •

Backlash was watching... [i]herself. Well, a projection of herself about a year ago, before she had left the persona of "Electrified" to turn to the darker, edgier, and more corrupted "Backlash."

"What the hell..." the present Backlash murmured as she realised that this was the doing of Necati, and that of all events, this was the one he had presented to her: her first encounter of a Higher kind. The first time she really got a taste of the ugly and truer side of what "being a hero" brought to the table, the kind of set-up that even poised and masterfully played cards could not predict and deceive, detect and protect. Her first reaction was to turn to Necati and demand an explanation, but she quickly decided that the action would be foolish.

So, I'm here to prove myself... again, like so many times before. I proved myself when I killed those thugs. I proved myself when I joined Titans East. I proved myself when I confessed to JaK that I loved him, and before that at the Tournament of Heroes! Then... then when I slaughtered that one Titan... what was his name? Model Eleven, I think? Model... Eleven... why did I kill him, again? When was that, anyway, and why can't I remember anything about that? It was, like, the best day of my life! It was the first time I unleashed my true self upon the world!

She just stared at the unfolding scene, bewildered and gobsmacked with disbelief. For some reason, she was getting a huge headache, and it made her whole body go numb, save for her skull.

She abruptly passed out once more, when screams filled her head.

“I am the mediator between the concerns of the public and the wants of real heroes. I am the answer to the people of Jump’s questions of who exactly is parading around their streets like superior kings and queens.”

They grew louder. They were familiar. They were her’s!

• • • • •

A new scene had appeared, banishing the other as quickly as a bolt of lightning destroys a dying tree. Teen Titans Central Tower had now enveloped both Necati and Backlash’s presences, where flickering lights convulsed and mere pieces of an empty, robotic shell lay scattered and torn across the Tower’s Main Ops Room.

“I am the answer!”

she cried. Another high-voltage strike and the couch, metal tables, and counter had been destroyed.

Backlash was there. The projection of the blackened figure unfurled both her whips, rising in anger, contempt, and revenge. She flipped it backward, throttled it forward, and struck it across the Titans’ big-screen TV and the row of computer monitors lining the adjacent wall, slicing them in half to be left fizzling.

“I am their true hero!”

Next came the smooth shiny floor, soon turned into a power surging rift.

“I am Katarzyna Dolinski, the Titans’ feared retribution! I AM BACKLASH!”

When the present Backlash had freed herself from her own eyelids, just enough to see what was going on around her and the transformation from streets and unsureness to domain and command. To see the height of her performance––the top of her game––again, was priceless. It filled her through her bones and veins, organs and enflamed nerves. And just as that awesome image of herself made the declaration of her alliance to no one but herself and her one eroding views of “justice,” she, too, whispered in perfect unison,

“I am justice!”
“I AM JUSTICE!”

Finally, the scene altogether vanished.

• • • • •

Katarzyna Dolinski stood, warily but with strength, and turned to face Necati. They were now in but a seemingly endless black void of nothingness.

“Necati,” she began firmly, “you say I’m an ox. This should prove you otherwise, although I should not have to prove myself any more than I have already. I am ready. I have proven that I’m capable of more than anyone had given me the time to think of what my future could hold. So, this is my future. That was my past. Now... now, good Reaper, this ‘ox’ has become raging bull, and you’ll be damned to know that I just need to curve the hunger. The hunger... the hunger for... cold-blooded revenge!”

OC: So i took a few liberties if you dont like just tell me and i will go back and edit it

BIC:

Necati’s cold eyes bore heavily into Backlash as observed the girl’s every move and reaction. Her mind was an open book to him, along with her thoughts, feelings and desires. However, it was an unneeded benefit for she spoke exactly what was on her mind. The girl made no effort to hide anything and was utterly at peace with her existence. The Reaper silently leered in the darkness of his hood; her mind was warped and decrepit. The girl had already twisted her thoughts of justice and self-reliance past the point of return. How many times in the endless procession of history had he watched an individual like this crumble and decay to the deluded monstrosity of person that now stood before him? His answer was far beyond countless. In every aspect the girl was portraying the flaw of human nature at its worst. She was being yet another juvenile poster boy of self-pity; loathing and unbridled anger misdirected to destroy what was her last hope at true fulfillment and happiness. How oddly fitting that he had likened her to an ox so abstractly, he had only said such a thing to goat a rise out of the creature but it was oddly accurate.

Pausing a moment, the Reaper knew she was the perfect vessel of his will. The only catch was to make her think that it was Backlash who played the strings and created the music, while he wrote the symphony that she performed. Breaking his train of thought he watched Backlash turn and steadily deliver her declaration to him. She proclaimed once more that she wished for nothing more than revenge and her own personal brand of justice from this life. The Reaper had to give her credit for her unwavering courage and resolute devotion to showing him no fear. The girl’s words were as solid as the cornerstone of a great church but the meaning was murky. While on the surface of Backlashes mind it was true that this was her desire… there was a twinge of doubt that shook the dark. Yes, there was something deep within her that held the hope of reproach and a return to the light of reason and true justice. Like a flame in the depths of an endless cavern the light was dim and sputtering wildly for life.

It would take a herculean effort to even breathe the slightest life back into its fading shine. Necati let the slightest show of delight flash across his eyes as he extended one florescent white hand out to the girl as he spoke. “Yes, I have sensed your intentions true and you resolve nearly unshakeable. I will strike this bargain with you child, and help you reclaim what once you were at the price of creating what I desire to be…Though I still sense the smallest twinges of uncertainty in your mind. From the depths of darkness hidden far from the light I see the murky shadow of a boy’s face.” His voice was hollow and inhumanly though oddly perfect in tone and almost intoxicatingly pleasing to the senses. “I for see that in the end he will have to fall…and I wonder little ox…. will you be able to take this one’s life?” His eyes watched her carefully scrutinizing very involuntary twitch or movement. “Will you be able to send this one to my realm knowing he will suffer for all eternity? Is your resolve so strong and your heat the hollow shell that is mine?”

Walking around behind her he placed his lip very close to her ear so that she could here even the faintest whisper of a sound that escaped him. “There is far more to you than meets my unyielding eye and even then I can see the fear, doubt and apprehension flow through you like the electricity of your whips…You resolve is strong when your mind is absent or buried under the darkness of it’s delusions.” Necati moves yet again to her other ear. “When all comes to the light as is the way of the universe you will wither from its illuminating glow. His voice, presence and perhaps.. even touch.” The reaper’s voice lingered on the last word as he brought her skin to life with the feel of Jak’s arms and the warmth of his voice in her ear as he formed into the boy’s perfect likeness holding her. “How long do you think you will last? When forced to kill the only thing you have left to love?” Necati placed one perfect kiss on her lips as Jak before everything faded back to darkness. When next Backlash would open her eyes she would find herself back in her room as if it were all a dream. The only noticeable difference one perfectly beautiful white rose left on her dresser by Necati. It was a sign that the deal had been struck and that her lot was now thrown in with his.

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